Shadows of Hope
by morganagain
Summary: Based on an ep. promotion picture for ep 2.4, Shannon reflects on newfound hope.


_**Title:** Shadows of Hope  
**Author: **Morganagain  
**Rating:** PG  
**Status of Fic:** Complete, one-shot  
**Warning:** Based on episode promotional picture for ep 2.4  
**Disclaimer:** All people, places, and things Lost are copyright JJ Abrams, David Lindelof, and the ABC Network. This fanfiction is for entertainment only, and I seek neither credit for nor profit from the characters and plot of the television series._

**A/N:** As always, thanks to Mrstater for her time, energy, and advice.  


**Shadows of Hope**

Waves gently broke upon the shore not far from where Shannon sat. The still night sky was black and liberally dotted with stars, a crescent moon rounded out the scene. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Even the ever-present humidity had died down. Around her, the mood of the other survivors was jubilant. Several had moved back to the beach, content in their belief that Charlie was right, that the Others the French woman had warned them about were merely a fairytale, the ravings of a woman living too long on her own. Even Vincent seemed happy as he dropped a stick at her feet for the tenth time and looked at her expectantly.

Conversation drifted over to her - speculation as to where the raft was now, whether a ship had picked those on board up, whether rescue was on its way. Nobody wanted to hear her doubts or about the vision she had of Walt. They wanted to dream dreams and celebrate the food found in the hatch, as if it was manna from the earth.

Shannon glanced down at the box of cookies Sayid had brought to her earlier. He had been so sweet, making her close her eyes before he set them before her. His eyes had looked at her expectantly, too.

"Here, look what I found."

She couldn't help but smile at him, he had looked so eager to please her. In response she had hugged him and assured him that they looked wonderful. A much different response than when Boone had offered her sweets not long ago.

"As if I'm going to start eating chocolate." The words rang in Shannon's ears. It had been a month or so since she had said that to Boone after he offered her a candy bar. Certain that rescue was imminent, she had refused; she would eat on the rescue boat. Shannon looked down at the cookies again - real, honest to goodness vanilla and chocolate cookies. The kind with lots of sugar and preservatives, the ones she secretly craved but never would have allowed past her lips a month or two ago. Here she sat, back at the beach, away from the dankness of the cave, with a box of cookies that came from the hatch that Boone had helped to excavate. The irony that he did indeed provide her with (and get her to eat) chocolate did not escape Shannon's notice.

Food had never been a huge priority to Shannon. In fact, her diet on the island wasn't all that different than her diet in the real world. Some fish and miscellaneous seafood, grilled, some fruit and vegetables. Sun's garden had produced some herbs so there was even some flavor variety. Not exactly five star cuisine, but pretty decent. If Shannon could have found a wine cellar on the island she would have been quite happy, food wise at least.

The blonde frowned as she stared into the small fire. She couldn't get Walt's image out of her mind. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, but nobody believed her, not even Sayid. Shannon could see it in his eyes, could hear it in his voice when he asked her to tell him one more time what she thought she saw. She wasn't an idiot, she knew what he was doing. He was trying to get her to doubt herself, to accept that it was exhaustion or hunger talking, not reality.

Sayid had been right about Vincent – the dog did find his way back to her not long after they had returned to the caves. But she didn't think the Iraqi was right about what made her see Walt. It wasn't exhaustion or hunger. It wasn't. She saw Walt, as clearly as she saw the fire in front of her now. She had seen the terror in the boy's eyes, the water dripping off of him, his gesture to be quiet. If only she could have made out what he had said to her. If only she could find him.

Vincent pranced around her and pushed at her hand with his nose as he tried to get her attention again. Finally, she relented and threw the stick he had dropped at her feet - did he never tire of the game?

It was very surreal. One moment she was with the other survivors huddled in the caves, scared of the Others and worried about both finding Vincent and about her vision of Walt. The next moment Kate and Jack had come back into camp, telling the castaways about what they found in the hatch: hoards of food and other supplies, and apparently some man named Desmond. Shannon didn't have the whole story – she'd ask Sayid about it later.

Everyone had been so excited when Jack mentioned the food. He cautioned them that they would need to ration it, but even so you would have thought it was Christmas morning complete with rescue boats by the way the other survivors acted. Smirking slightly to herself, Shannon couldn't help but wonder where the Prada hatch was. Hey, if there was a hatch full of food, maybe somewhere there was a hatch full of clothes.

She heard Sayid's voice before she saw him. She looked back and saw him approach with Sun. Sayid sank into the sand behind Shannon and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. Funny how such a simple touch could cause her heart to race and her head to spin. She loved the nearness of him, loved the comfort she felt when he was with her. If only they were some other place instead of this island. Or, if they had to be on this island, she wished she could be one of the other survivors, happily dreaming of possibility, instead of dreading it. To have hope instead of fear.

Sun settled across from them and her eyes searched Shannon's.

"Did you really see Walt? Do you think something happened to the raft?"

Shannon lowered her eyes as she debated what to say. She could feel Sun's eyes on her, could feel Sayid tense as he waited to hear what she would say. Taking a breath she smiled at the Korean woman, and picking up the box of cookies, she offered them to her.

"I don't know, Sun. Maybe it is just my mind playing tricks on me. We have to hold on to hope," she swallowed hard and added, "I'm sure Jin is fine."

Shannon felt Sayid's fingers tighten on her shoulder as she spoke, and while Sun's eyes still looked troubled, her shoulders visibly relaxed as she processed what the blonde said.

Smile, nod, act happy, Shannon told herself. She had been well trained at masking her thoughts at will since childhood. She wouldn't talk about her anxiety again. Not at this point. Not until she knew for certain. Tomorrow she would take Vincent and go back to where she had seen Walt. Tomorrow she would try to find the answers.

Shannon closed her eyes and leaned back into Sayid. She could feel his arms wrap around her and felt their warmth coupled with the heat of the crackling fire. Tonight she would try to be content and try not to think about what might be.


End file.
